


the louvre by lorde

by writerangel



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: BAU reader, Basically, Fluff, Its only fluff, Other, Tie pulling, but its hot, good makeup session, i call this my coloring fic, in the most sfw way possible, it has what my friend would call spice ?, oh!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27154834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerangel/pseuds/writerangel
Summary: you and spencer stay late at work when the power goes out.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	the louvre by lorde

**Author's Note:**

> for my brits - a heffalump is a purple elephant from the winnie the pooh movies

If one really thought about it, the whole ordeal was Hotch’s doing. The team recently had closed another case in Minnesota, so today was a catch up on paperwork type day. It had been raining since you woke up, but the weather really began to pick up around noon time. Around four pm, Hotch told everyone on your team to go home early, beat the dangerous wind and traffic. But you told Hotch that you would only leave when he did. After all it made no sense to you why everyone on the team that had nothing to go home to leave early, while Haley and Jack were waiting at home. And Spencer was still there because, well, let’s just say Spencer was a bit of a workaholic. 

You, Hotch, Spencer, and Rossi split up the important paperwork of the night in order to speed up the process. You were actually doing surprisingly well, staying relatively focused on the task at hand. No matter what anyone could think, no one could get used to the boring and tedious rhythm of office work, not at least in your opinion. But, despite your consistent bursts of motivation, you were no superhero. At around 6:30, your hand was beginning to cramp up. Spencer got the message that you needed a rest when you were cracking your neck and unnecessarily waving your filled out form, like you were drying out the ink. 

Spencer chuckled at your dramaticisms. “Tired?” 

Tucking your opposite hand under your chin, you stopped the waving. “Is it that obvious?” 

He gave you a tight-lipped smile. It was awkward, but he also saved you from as much embarrassment as he could in the most Spencer Reid fashion. “I, uh,” he cleared his throat. “I need to get some more empty forms, if you need a break.” 

You sat up so fast. “Yes.” 

He smiled cheekily at your excitement, and you both rose from your desks simultaneously. 

“I feel so weak,” you said, bounding up to catch up to Reid. 

“What do you mean?”

“Hotch stays late everyday, but the one time I do the same, I can barely handle an extra hour of overtime.”

Opening the door to enter the hallway, he said, “He has resilience and experience on his side. He probably was the same the first time he had to stay back late.” 

You made a face. “Yeah, I guess.” You swiped your card, opening one of the file rooms. Switching on the light, you scoured the shelf for the forms, but you were coming up empty. Groaning, “ugh! They reorganized it again.” 

Spencer broke off from you, looking at the other shelves. “Sometimes, I think they do this on purpose. After all, it always happens when we’re away on a case.” 

“I can believe that. Now, where are they? Invoices, transfer paperwork, preliminary reports.” You began to lean over as you went down your list, ending in a squatting position. Just to add to your poor luck, the power went out. You took a slight inhale of breathe, alarmed by the sudden change of environment. Usually such a thing wouldn’t startle you that much, but then again you were trapped in the paperwork room with Spencer Reid. Spencer Reid, resident genius with an IQ of 187, had three PHDs, and a debilitating fear of the dark. He yelped out so loudly at the abrupt absence of light that surprised you in such a way that you fell backwards on your butt. 

“Ow,” you groaned out in pain. 

“Y/N? Where are you? Are you okay? What happened? Where are you?” His tone sounded frantic. 

Your eyes squinted, as you tried to gauge where his voice was coming from, to get to him and calm him down. Your sight hadn’t yet adjusted to the dark. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sure there are some flashlights in here. Just gimme a sec.” The panicked energy radiated from Spencer’s vicinity made you nervous for time. It was hard to think. You whispered to yourself, “okay. If I was a flashlight where would I be?” 

Spencer whimpered. He’s right. “If I were a flashlight in the paperwork room reorganized by Anderson and Grace, where would I be?” Grabbing onto a shelf leg, you half guided your still adjusting eyes around the room, half lifted yourself up. 

“Asking that sort of question is actually redundant, per se. From the four minutes and 38 seconds we spent in this room before the power went out, we weren’t able to collect enough data about the layout to guess where any item could be laying about. Now-” 

Taking a frustrated inhale in, you cut him off as politely as you could. “Spencer, as much as I appreciate your mathematical equations, if you don’t have anything helpful to say, kindly shut your mouth.” 

Despite your very polite vernacular, Spencer grew flustered. He stammered; “We-well, I-I-“

“Spencer.” Your tone was firm this time. It seemed to do the trick as after that, his mouth remained closed. You felt around the surrounding shelves, but all you could come up with was paper. 

That was until: “You should check where the walkie bin used to be.” 

Understanding exactly where he was talking about, you carefully made your way a couple cabinets over. Crouching down you reached into the dark bin and felt around. Bingo. Clicking one on, you flashed a light in what you could remember to be Spencer’s direction. It eventually found him and he was squinting in the direct light. Realizing what this meant, he got up and made his way towards you. 

“You found them,” he grabbed a light of his own. 

“Only thanks to you.” You sat down next to the bookcase and crossed your legs. 

Spencer peered at a shelf slightly above your line of sight. “What's that?”

“What’s what?” You sat up, trying to catch onto what he was talking about. 

He reached an arm up and pulled down a couple of books you didn’t recognize. “This.” 

Flashing your light on them, a smile quickly reached your face as you recognized what he found. “Hold on.” You stood up from your spot, pushing bins around in order to find the right one. 

“What is it?” Spencer’s eyes were trained on your movements. 

“They have to be here somewhere…” Your tongue involuntarily stuck out in concentration. “Got it!” Grabbing the pin, you jogged back to Spencer’s sitting figure. You tossed the bin down next to him, contents rolling back and forth quite noisily, before joining him again. 

He gave you a look and cocked an eyebrow, asking you to elaborate once again. “It’s JJ’s coloring sheets. For Henry.” Grabbing the book at the top, you opened the  _ Safari Animals Coloring Book (For Kids) _ . 

“Woah!” Spencer grabbed the marine biology one and started coloring. “I didn’t know she kept these here.” 

“Me neither,” you grabbed a purple crayon. “Thank God, yet again, for JJ.” 

“And for Anderson and Grace for keeping these everytime.” 

You shrugged, “meh.” 

He looked up from his grey pufferfish. “You don’t like Anderson?” 

“No, I do. I think he’s cute. But, come on. You have to admit; it’s pretty annoying how they change the room every week.” 

His eyebrows furrowed, but you barely took notice. “You think he’s cute?” 

Looking up, you let out a laugh. “That’s what you grabbed from that? Sure, I think he’s cute, whatever.” 

Spencer let out a rather disgruntled “hmph” but went back to his ocean animals. You peered gently at his work. It was very clean, and reminded you of when you were a child and you were amazed by how your dad always stayed inside the lines. “You’re very good at this.”

Spencer immediately held up his book like a shield, blocking your view. “Hey! Eyes on your own work.” 

He  _ had _ to be joking. “What is this, an exam?” 

“No,” he said it like  _ you _ were being the absurd one. “It’s called common courtesy.” Despite his own words, he remained a hypocrite, catching a glance at your work. “Wait, you can’t do that.”

Smirking towards your work, you said, “Now look who's not being courteous.” 

“But you can’t do that!” 

You looked down at your page, pausing your rhythmic movements for a moment. “What are you talking about, Spencer?” 

“Elephants aren’t purple.” 

Amusedly, your eyes moved up to him. He remained frozen, his bland pufferfish almost finished, yet remaining incomplete. Eyebrows knit together and mouth agape, the horror clear on his face. The light standing from your flashlights exaggerated his expression, but you understood it nevertheless. “Tell that to the heffalumps.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You know, the heffalumps. From that Winnie The Pooh movie.”

He shook his head and started rummaging around the coloring bin. “Those aren’t real. They’re made up cartoons for the enjoyment of toddlers, nothing more.” 

“Maybe to you and me that is true. But to those toddlers, and Winnie and Co., they’re real life.” 

“Kindly shut up.” 

You gasped out in laughter at your words being repeated back to you. “What are you looking for?” 

“An eraser. You’ve ruined Henry’s book and need to start over. Agh! Come on, JJ.” As he moved around the various coloring agents faster, his movements got louder. 

Now it was your turn to shield your book from him. “Oh my god, Reid! You’re insanely immature.” 

Giving up, he looked back towards you. “How is it immature to want  _ my _ godson to learn about nature through a correct lense?” 

You rolled your eyes at him and turned back your book to previously colored pages. “Spencer, look at this.” You held the book up, facing it towards him. “This giraffe is green with orange stripes. This wildebeest is pink, with almost nothing remaining inside the lines. I don’t think  _ I’m _ the one introducing Henry to a false reality.” 

As he leaned in towards the book, Spencer’s jaw fell open. He could not believe his eyes. So many thoughts were flying through his brain right now; about buying more nature books for Henry, about your purple elephant, about the red zebra in the middle that you failed to point out. 

You on the other hand were thinking very different thoughts. You found it humorous that this is what it took to introduce Spencer to a less strict world. You were also thinking, and quite frankly, looking at his lips. They were so soft and open and could someone have pretty lips? Is that weird? Absentmindedly, you licked yours. You don’t know what came over you. Maybe it was being transported to a childlike mindset or his selfishly awaiting lips, but while the Doctor’s eyes remained trained on the pages displayed before him, you reached into the coloring bin and grabbed hold of a random marker, uncapping it. The mere sound broke him out of his trance, but much too late. 

“Wha-?” Before he could even finish announcing his thought, you had swiped the random marker across his nose. It was green. Spencer now donned a green stripe on his nose. 

“What was that for?” You shrugged at his question letting out a giggle. But then he did what you least expected him to. He reached into the bin himself and swiped a pink highlighter across your cheek. 

The cool sensation against your face made you scrunch up and tilt your head. It turned into a marker painting war, as the pair of you simultaneously tried to poke and dodge one another. It finally escalated when you grabbed a hold of his tie, your marker raised tauntingly in your non-dominant hand. 

His eyes grew wide and serious. “Don’t you dare.” 

Suddenly, you searched his face for a sign in how he might react towards your next move. Your eyes moved up and down from: his face, tie; his lips, tie; green nose, tie. Would he hate you? Would he remember this? Were you simply loopy tired? You decided, screw all that. Tugging his tie forward, you closed your eyes and gently connected your lips to his. 

It was a surprise for both of you, but Spencer was the one who remained frozen in place. You waited for his next move, being his turn now. If he pushed you off him, you were going to shrink into your soul and you were already drafting the world’s best apology for “accidentally” kissing your work best friend. 

Thankfully, he did nothing of the sort. When his brain caught up to him, his hands cupped behind your neck, folding fingers amongst the strands of your hair. The pressure of him pulling you forward allowed you to relax, and your lips moved with one another. 

Somehow, in between kisses, he managed to speak out. “I thought you were attracted to Anderson.” 

Groaning, you pulled his tie deeper into the kiss. “Shut up.”

You felt his smile as you kissed him again. Gaining support from gently pulling on his tie, you both pushed aside all coloring materials and you climbed into his lap. Your hands moving, up to his shoulders, to the nape of his neck, and finally slithering up into his hair. It was unclear exactly when the mood shifted from soft, gentle, and timid to wanting, restless and hungry. All of a sudden, there was rocking, pushing and pulling, twirling of fingers around each other's hair. It was a good thing you heard the click of the door unlocking when you did. Who knows what would have happened. 

Right as the door opened, you slid quickly and very ungracefully off Spencer’s lap. You began messing up your hair in a different way that didn’t look like you just spent who knows how long making out with Spencer. Right as the interrupter walked in, you manage to grab hold of one of Henry’s coloring books. 

“There you two are.” It was Hotch. He flicked the light off and on and it signaled the power was on again. “What happened?” 

“We came in looking for empty forms when the power went out.” 

“Oh.” Hotch walked toward the opposite side of where your search started. “Well, you didn't have to go all the way over there. They’re right here.” 

Spencer grabbed the books and the bin to put away as you both got up. “Oh, thanks, Hotch.” Of course he would know the newly updated layout. 

You grabbed a good stack of the papers, meeting Hotch at the front of the room. “We should be finished in about an hour.” You nodded as Hotch gave you two one of his rare smiles before leaving the stockroom. You turned to Spencer, awkward and unsure of what to do. 

You tidied the papers against your body. “Oh! Um the flashlights.” 

“I put them away,” Spencer gave you a small smile as he rocked on his ankles. 

“Okay. Well, I guess back to work?” 

He nodded. You moved towards the door and your hand connected with the handle. Just leaving it at that, after what just transpired between you two, felt strange, to say the least. Hand still on the handle, you turned on your tiptoes, pecking a soft kiss on Spencer's cheek. With that you opened the door and walked back to your desk. If a blushing Reid took a bit longer to collect himself and join you at the bullpen, well. It was a good thing there was no Derek around to tease. 


End file.
